I was at the gym yesterday doing some exercises to rebuild my knee. One of them was to just stand on my left leg, right leg as close to my chest as I could get it, and hold the balance for 45 seconds at a time. I lifted my right knee to my chest, grabbed it because something about the countertension or maybe the posture helps my balance, and I stared at the dumbbell rack in front of me, focusing on the 40-pounders. I tried not to let my gaze wander to the right to the ones that are five pounds heavier than that, because I dislike that number these days. Just focus. Focus on the 40. Think about how it's been used so much the white stenciled numbers are kind of fading.*
Think about your foot. Feel how your weight is shifting from blade to arch. You aren't seeing anything any more, you're just feeling now. Pivot on your heel just a little bit to point your toes more outward. There. It's better balanced but also uncomfortable. You were born with your feet badly turned inward.** You think you remember the leg braces you had to wear as a baby but you don't, you're just confusing your memories with scenes from Forrest Gump. It's weird that you do that. Remember how you're sure you almost fell off Niagara Falls because you saw that happen to a kid in a movie?***
Am I still holding onto my right knee? I am. Ugh, I hate how squidgy it is. At least it's shaven. I can't wait to be able to shave my left leg again with something more precise than hair clippers. If someone could read my thoughts, they'd probably be grossed out that I'd even mention my hairy leg. You can't even show a hairy leg on a commercial for women's razors--
"You can put your foot down," said my trainer. I snapped out of it and put my foot down.
"Where do you go when you're doing that? Do you focus on one thing, or try to take your mind off of it?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"Sort of," I said, because it's sort of both and sometimes I just talk like a meme. "The only way I know how to focus is to distract myself from focusing, then distract myself from my distractions. Does that make any sense?"
"Have you ever been diagnosed with ADD?" he asked.
"No, but it wouldn't surprise me," I said.
*I'm wobbling. Stop thinking about vision. Start thinking about another sense. Change your inner monologue.
**You've stopped wobbling. Don't notice that you noticed it, or you'll draw attention and start wobbling again. Keep free associating.
***You're wobbling. Change tracks.[1]
[1] Shit, I shouldn't have thought about falling while trying to keep my balance. That was dumb.
